


girl in the room

by milldumb



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, F/F, i would like this to be slow burn but.. we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 01:24:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milldumb/pseuds/milldumb
Summary: The music swells and fills the air as Elena pulls Eve through the door. Eve feels the music everywhere. She’s in awe of the chandeliers adorning the ceiling, the stage the eccentric jazz band resides, and most of all: the booze along the back wall.“How often do you come here?” Eve nearly shouts to Elena over the music and boisterous crowd.“Too often for someone in our particular field.” Elena says as they round closer to the bar. “You should join me more. You usually seem to be in need of a drink or two.”





	girl in the room

**Author's Note:**

> hi this is my first fic pls be kind xx 
> 
> also a MASSIVE thank you to saltandsunscreen for helping me make this not totally terrible.. ur the best seriously

It’s well after five o’clock when Eve is following Elena down enough New York alleyways that it begins to feel like a maze. Every time they see a rat, Elena lets out a squeal. Eve counts seven squeals just after they’re making their way down the fourth alley. 

“Speakeasies are hard enough to get into. Why the hell does this one require a maze?” Eve grumbles after the eighth squeal. 

“This one doesn’t require a maze. It just so happens that this is the quickest way here from work.” Elena explains as they round a corner and find themselves in yet another grimey, rat-infested alley. Eve spots a rat and before Elena can react- “If you squeal one more time.” 

She squeals. Eve stops and stares at her. “What did I just say?”

“It’s a rat! My reaction is totally justified!”

“Is it?”

“Oh, shut it, will you? We’re almost there. Be quiet and let me do the talking.” Elena warns as they near an obsolete door in the middle of another abandoned alleyway. ‘ _ What is this one? The millionth?’  _ Eve wonders to herself. Elena knocks on the door six times to a beat of a song Eve can’t put her finger on. A slat in the middle of the door opens to two beady eyes. “Twinkle toes,” Elena whispers to the eyes. Eve rolls her eyes at the sheer ridiculousness of all of this. If only their employers knew that two government officials were making their way into a speakeasy fresh off of the clock. The slat closes once again and seconds later the door opens to a man no taller than Eve, wearing an oversized suit accompanied by a top hat. 

“Welcome to La Villanelle, dolls,” the man greets, making a show of taking off his top hat and.. Bowing. He ushers them in, shutting the door and locking it behind them. “Right this way.” They follow him down a small corridor, steps, another corridor, and more steps before they can hear the soft sounds of jazz music from behind the entryway to the club. “Enjoy yourselves.” He bids them farewell and makes his way back. 

“Is it just me or is he.. Odd?” Eve asks Elena after the man is, hopefully, out of earshot. 

“No, definitely odd. Never seen him before. Probably wouldn’t have entered the first time if  _ that  _ is what the door opened to.” Elena says with a grimace before actually smiling. “You ready?”

“After all of that? How can I not be?” 

The music swells and fills the air as Elena pulls Eve through the door. Eve feels the music  _ everywhere _ . She’s in awe of the chandeliers adorning the ceiling, the stage the eccentric jazz band resides, and most of all: the booze along the back wall. 

“How often do you come here?” Eve nearly shouts to Elena over the music and boisterous crowd. 

“Too often for someone in our particular field.” Elena says as they round closer to the bar. “You should join me more. You usually seem to be in need of a drink or two.”

Eve rolls her eyes and adjusts her skirt. She abhors her work attire, but the looks she would get if she wore  _ pants _ almost makes it worth the discomfort. As she eyes the cases of various alcohol behind the bartender, she tries to determine which would be less likely to have her smelling of booze when she returns home to--  _ Oh _ . Niko. He was shipped off a couple of months ago. Eve still expects to see him when she gets home from work. Still expects to wake up and find him still snoring noisily beside her. But he’s not there. And she’s not sure when or if he’ll make it back home.

“We’re supposed to have fun tonight.” Elena says, scolding her as she nudges Eve’s shoulder.

“Right. Sorry, I went somewhere else for a minute there.” 

“I get it. You know I do. But there’s no sense in worrying about our husbands when we’re in the  _ best _ underground bar in all of New York.” Elena says before tipping back a shot of something Eve didn’t even notice she’d ordered. “Wow, that’s strong.” Elena blinks a couple of times, shaking her head. She turns to the bartender. “I’ll take two more of those.” He pours the tiny shot glasses and hands them to her with a smile before turning to some men at the other end of the bar. Elena slides one of the shots to Eve. “Now, are you ready to get properly  _ wasted _ ?” She asks with a tilt of her head. 

“Oh, why the hell not?” Eve sighs, grabbing the shot and downing it before Elena can pick her own up. 

“Eve Polastri! You scoundrel. I knew you had it in you.” Elena laughs and orders four more. 

* * *

Eve wakes up with a hammering in her head so loud she begins to actually miss Niko’s snores. 

“ _ Fuck _ .” She rubs her temples in a futile attempt to make the pain go away. Not a moment later, the buzz of her doorbell pushes her further under the blankets. She hopes that whoever it is will go away so that she can wallow in her misery in peace. 

“Eve! It’s me! I’ve coffee.” She gears Elena’s muffled voice from the door of the apartment. After more struggle than she’d like to admit, she’s downstairs and opening the door to an irritatingly _ not _ -hungover Elena. “How is your head not about to  _ explode _ ?” Eve mumbles as she grabs one of the coffees, leaving Elena on her doorstep as she makes her way to the living room and falls back onto the couch. 

Elena follows, shutting the door behind her. “Because I didn’t drink nearly as much as you did. I felt like a real secret agent trying to get you home without alarming any patrolling officers.” She sits in a chair in the corner of the room, opposite Eve and sets her own coffee down on the coffee table.

“You didn’t think to stop me at some point?” 

“I did! Many times!  _ You _ actually got us kicked out. If I show up next weekend and find out that I’m banned-- I’ll be coming for your head.” Elena stops, seeming actually saddened by this thought. “Do you know how hard it will be to find a club that comes anywhere near La Villanelle?”

“It’s an illegal establishment.. How did I get kicked out of something that isn’t even allowed in the first place?” Eve drinks more of her coffee, needing the caffeine to wrap her head around incredulous story. 

“Illegal or not, there are rules. They couldn’t be as well known as they are without getting caught if there weren’t rules, Eve.” 

“Wait, are you actually mad at me?” Eve nearly forgets she’s hungover as her voice raises. 

“Not mad, just worried. Scared shitless, actually.” Elena pauses for a moment, clearly debating on whether or not she should elaborate. “I’ve heard stories. I know you have too. People just.. disappearing. Or showing up dead in the streets. It’s not random, Eve. These people either knew too much and were threatening to expose a bootlegger, or they were found out to be undercover. You put us in danger. Primarily yourself.”

Eve downs the rest of her already lukewarm coffee and takes a deep breath.

“I am  _ way  _ too hungover for this.”

* * *

Several painkillers and two cups of coffee later, Eve finds herself in the same abandoned alleyway from last night. Only this time, she’s decidedly  _ not  _ buzzing with excitement. After explaining her idea to come back and apologize, Elena was even more worried than before. But eventually the idea of being able to continue drinking at La Villanelle had Elena seeing things Eve’s way. 

Unsure whether or not these establishments are actually open during the day, Eve hesitates before knocking, in the same pattern Elena had the night before. It felt as if minutes had passed and Eve began to wonder if despite the prohibition, people still generally didn’t drink before five o’clock. She’s a millisecond away from knocking again when the door swings open. Eve’s fist is still raised, as is the broad man’s eyebrow as he regards her hand. She brings her arm down.

“Um, hi. I was here last night.” The man makes no move to greet her in turn. Eve continues. “I was wondering if I could speak to whoever is in charge? See, I made an ass out of myself apparently and my friend is worried she won’t be allowed back at this lovely establishment.” Still nothing. “I just wanted a chance to clear things up and apologize for getting  _ really _ drunk.” The man still hasn’t moved, said a word, or made any indication that he heard anything Eve’s said. 

Another moment passes and he’s shut the door in Eve’s face. “Well, that was rude.” Eve says aloud to herself in the empty alleyway. She’s about to turn and leave when the door opens again. 

It’s the odd man from last night. “I remember you!” He points to her. “You were with that other woman. What a nice pair of broads. It’s a shame we had to get rid of you two last night. Come on in!” He ushers her in, locking the door behind them. The lock unnerves Eve in a way it didn’t the night before. “Heard you wanna talk to the boss? She don’t take kindly to strangers, but there is someone else you can talk to.” Eve pauses. _ She?  _ Eve never imagined in her wildest dreams that the owner would be a  _ woman _ . She’s aware that it’s mildly sexist of her not to have thought of the possibility, but women were only recently even allowed to vote. Eve certainly can’t imagine what kind of woman it takes to be in charge of dozens of goons and run her own speakeasy. 

In all of her thoughts about this mysterious woman, she hadn’t even noticed that she and the odd man had made it down to the actual entrance of the club. As she enters behind the man, she notices that there are more than a few customers at the bar. It’s not the crowd she experienced prior, but it’s also just shy of one in the afternoon. “Right this way, doll.” He guides her to a table in the corner of the club, surrounded by large purple drapes. “VIP, baby. Enjoy.” He tips his hat off to her before leaving her to herself. 

The music isn’t as loud as it was last night, either, Eve notices as she sits at the table. She ponders ordering a coke as a tall, burly man with a sparse amount of grey hair on his head and a full beard approaches the table. “You want to speak to someone in charge?” He asks in a deep Russian accent as he sits across from her. 

“Yes. I wanted to apologize for my behavior last night. It’s my understanding that I was kicked out?” The man laughs at this. At  _ her _ . 

“ _ Apologize _ ? You come all this way to apologize? You women are something else. Seriously.” He signals to someone for drinks. 

“Oh, no. I’m good. It’s too early for me.” Eve says as two drinks are brought to the table.

“They are not for you.” He picks one of the glasses up and downs it in one go. 

“Oh. Well, I just wanted to make sure my friend would be allowed back. She’d kill me if she had to try and find some other club.” 

He stares at her for a moment.

“Of course she is. You too. If we ban every drunk idiot we kick out, we would have no more customers. It’s part of business.” He picks up the other glass and swirls the liquor around. “Was that it?” 

“Um, yeah, actually. Thanks?” 

A young man appears at the table and whispers discreetly in the burly man’s ear. “Are you serious?” The young man nods. Eve starts to fiddle with one of her jacket’s buttons as the older man looks back at her. “Come with me.” He stands and begins walking, clearly not waiting for Eve. She hurriedly gets up to follow him. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You will see.” He leads her down a hallway next to the bar and down yet another flight of stairs. He stops at the bottom and Eve almost runs directly into him. He turns to face her, making them even closer than Eve would ever like to be. “Mention anything you see here, and you will die. Understand?” Eve nods. The man smiles at her and raises his eyebrows. “Good. Come, do not be scared.” Eve stumbles down the last step, the man catching her before she can fall. “What did I say? Don’t be scared.” She nods again. 

Eve is rarely ever scared. She’s forty years old and the only thing she actually fears is death. So, this situation scares her a bit. 

She continues to follow the man down the corridor and notices the racks of alcohol along the walls. Eve doesn’t think she’s ever seen this much liquor in her  _ life _ . “Impressive huh? Not many get to see this.” The man in front of her says without so much as a glance towards her. Eve wonders if he has a third eye or something. Is he being nice to her before the goons kill her? Oh, god. Eve is definitely scared.

He stops in front of a door, eyeing Eve as he knocks. The door opens to a young blonde woman, probably in her twenties, Eve guesses. She’s wearing a men’s suit that fits perfectly on her, unlike the man from earlier. “This is her?” She asks the man in a Russian accent, but doesn’t stop looking at Eve. She feels uncomfortable under her gaze, but somehow less scared than she was twenty seconds ago. Once again, she’s being sexist, but women have to stick together, right? 

“This is her.”

“ _ Her _ name is Eve,” Eve blurts without thinking. The two Russians look at her quizzically.

“Hello, Eve,” The woman replies after a moment, as if testing her name in her mouth. “Come in?” She opens the door wider for Eve. “Konstantin, you can go.” 

“She could be dangerous.” Konstantin is eyeing her, once again, as she makes her way into the room. It looks like any ordinary office, except there are no windows, because they’re a million flights of stairs underground. A large fish tank decorates the left wall and inside there’s a gray fish swimming about. A desk stands in the center of the room with papers scattered on top. Behind the desk is another rack filled with expensive-looking liquor. 

“Really? Her?” The woman laughs, holding her belly. “Seriously? I’ve seen food in this city more dangerous than this woman.” With that the woman shuts the door in his face. “He’s always so grumpy.” She goes to sit behind the desk, gesturing for Eve to sit in one of the armchairs across from her. 

“So,  _ Eve _ . I hear you came to apologize for getting kicked out last night? I must say,  _ that _ is a first.” She smiles at her. “Oh, I am so rude! I haven’t introduced myself! I’m Villanelle.” Eve’s stomach drops.  _ Villanelle _ . This is the  _ boss _ . 

“You named your  _ illegal _ club after  _ yourself _ ?” Eve wonders aloud. 

“Don’t be silly. It’s not my actual name. Which I’m not telling you, so don’t bother asking.” Villanelle leans back in her chair and rests her feet on the desk. “Also, it’s interesting of you to mention legalities when you showed up here yourself last night drinking plenty of my alcohol. Do you have a problem with people, other than yourself, breaking the law?” She asks with a tilt of her head.

“No, I don’t have a problem with any of it. I just thought it was stupid of you to name the club after yourself. In case law got involved.” Eve crosses one leg over the other. 

“Are you threatening me, Eve?” Villanelle removes her legs from the desk and sits up, leaning against the desk.

“No.” 

Villanelle stares at her for a moment before leaning back again. “Good. I wouldn’t want to kill such a beautiful woman.” Eve wonders if she does the killing herself, or if she has her goons do it. Probably the latter. Eve hasn’t heard of any women killing anyone. 

Eve points to the fish tank. “What kind of fish is that? It’s huge.” 

“It’s a blacktip reef shark.” Villanelle rises from her seat and makes her way to the aquarium. “He doesn’t like people. We are the same.” 

“Is that why you hide out down here?” Eve joins her next to the tank.

“I’m not hiding,” she scoffs. 

“Not from the law, apparently.” 

Villanelle laughs again. “What is it with you and the law?” 

Eve chooses to ignore the question. The last thing she needs 20 feet underground is for the owner of a speakeasy to know she works for the government. She taps the glass and the shark immediately bites at her. Villanelle grabs her wrist. “Don’t do that. It upsets him.” Eve looks down at the hand holding her wrist and looks back up at the woman. She can’t remember the last time anyone’s touched her. Villanelle releases her. 

“I should get going.” 

“Okay.” Villanelle puts her hands in the pockets of her pants. “Try not to get kicked out next time you’re in. And visit me, will you? It gets boring here by myself.” She looks like she means it, but then she’s smiling at Eve again. 

Eve nods. “Sure,” she replies, not knowing whether or not she means it, if she ever intends on coming back here, and heads for the door.

“And Eve?” Eve turns back to Villanelle to see her leaning against her desk.

“Wear your hair down next time.” 

**Author's Note:**

> please let me know what you think!!! i'm on tumblr as viiianeve if u wanna come talk to me about this au or just villaneve in general.. everyone i know is so tired of me talking bout these b*tches..


End file.
